


City of Silent Screams and Acid Tears

by TheMorgana



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse, Alec Lightwood Deserves Nice Things, Angst, Anixety, Crimes, Criminal world, Cutting, Depression, Eating Disorders, F/F, F/M, Good Maryse Lightwood, High School, Hospital, Hurt, M/M, Minor Character Death, Multi, Other, Phobia, Self Harming, Sex, Sexual Abuse (Past), Underaged Sex, domestic abuse, everything is okay in the end, fears, society
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-05-17 00:41:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14821958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMorgana/pseuds/TheMorgana
Summary: All Magnus wants is to hear three little words from his Stepfather.“I forgive you.”All Alec wants is the nod of approval from his parents.“Good job, son.”All Jonathan wants is the reassuring smile of his biological mother.“I miss you.”All Grace wants is a simple question from her adopted mother.“Are you okay?”__________________They were once indestructible. The world wants to prove otherwises so it grinded them into ashes of who they once were.The world shattered them into pieces that will never be repaired and torn the pretty cover off reality for them. They are now wandering aimlessly around the world, knowing that they are not complete but does not know what makes them broken.Will they conquer the waves of society crashing them and sending them stumbling?Or will they be doomed forever to lose pieces of themselves until they are completely lost?__________________Originally named “Shattered Glass”__________________Please take a look at all the tags before reading.





	1. Green and Gold Orbs

**Author's Note:**

> This is my re-write of my first fan fiction “Broken Pieces”. Hopefully, I will be more satisfied with this story’s plot and character’s relationships. I will post every two to three weeks, but sometimes you might just get lucky. ;a; If you are wondering why I didn’t put Clary with Jace in the tags, subscribe to this story because the reason is coming up. By the way, Magnus’ stepfather doesn’t pronounce the letter H when he is drunk. Well, enjoy reading and don’t forget the kudos and comments!

He glared into the cracked edges, blaming it for not showing the magnificent boy there once was. Moldy green and golden orbs glared back. In the place of where the iris were supposed to be are two narrow slits. Born a monster. He bitterly gave out a chuckle at that. Like he needs a reminder of what he is.

Something wet dripped onto his face, rolling itself down rather quickly onto the high cheekbones, and then down to those pale lips. The tear gave moisture to the lips dry as desert, smoothing out the cracks, and a tiny splash of colour returned. Swollen eyes from late night’s silent sobbing. Check. Eye bags from gaining no sleep whatsoever. Check. Cracked lips caked with blood. Check. He subconsciously spinned around to greet his closest friend in the whole wide world, makeup. Then, his shoulders shagged with responsibilities, and emotions when he realized that it wasn't there. Right, even with his part-time job, they are too poor to afford something so “unnecessary”. Hell, they are struggling to pay the rent right now, not to mention his father's alcohol "situation". No, not father. It’s stepfather. Magnus mentally corrected himself with a ragged sigh that seems to shake his whole body. The rent of this month will be due in three weeks and right now, they have literally nothing in their bank accounts to afford any food. With only a pathetic bag of carrots in the fridge, things aren’t is looking too cheerful. His paycheck wouldn’t come until next week and all of that will be gone towards the rent. Alicante’s rent is sky high, and even with the mercy of their landlady would not be enough for them to live. How he will find food, and enough money for his stepfather's alcohol “situation” is a mystery to Magnus.

He wished and prayed, and wished and prayed that time may turn back to the time where Mama was still alive. Even if she wasn’t happy at all, and things weren’t perfect, their family still were living in luxury. He could afford whatever brand he preferred, and Father-no it’s Stepfather-would still be drinking wine instead of the cheap crap they sell at the store. That was the time when all Magnus have to was trying to not fail a course, and stop Mama and Stepfather’s fights. It was when Mama was able to bear the fact that she had given birth to a monster with terrible, disgusting eyes. There were people whom loved him. And back then, he had a fragile model of a family. 

He glances down to the dark contacts that he cupped carefully with his fingers, and swore furiously. This is the price he pays for being a coward, he guess. 

_The pale plastic door of their petite apartment swung open with force. It slammed into the coat rack, leaving it shaking. Shit. He is home. Magnus’ olive coloured army coat fell onto the carpet without any protest. This is a time when Magnus is thankful for no electricity in the living room, and that his eyes can see so much better than a average teenager. Stepfather leaned against the doorframe, pale even compared to the scraps of white paint on the hinges._

_“Maggie, come out. I know you are ‘iding somewhere.” As Stepfather slurred, the strong smell of Alcohol radiates off him like the ocean’s tides. Magnus wrinkled his nose and curled himself up into a tighter ball. Bracing himself for being found. “Yoy always are w’en I had a few bottles.”_

_“To be honest, I don’t know why you bother acting like you are so muc’ better than the rest of us. Dressing all fancy and t’at.” Stepfather plopped himself onto the crimson armchair with a heavy sigh._

_“Are you ‘oping for love? Don’t even bot’er.” Beads of sweat coated the forehead of Magnus. Nothing is well when Stepfather is drunk._

_“Not’ing could ever love you.” The taste of salty iron melted on the tip of Magnus’ tongue._

_Stepfather switched tactics, “You know that she killed ‘erself because of you, right Maggie?”_

_“You were born like a monster. W’en the nurse first ‘eld you to your mother. She started screaming-” Stepfather cuts himself off with a yawn. His accent is getting lighter. Good, that means he will probably be sober soon._

_However, to Magnus’ horror, his Stepfather reaches towards the wooden table._

_“Your contacts. I wonder what they are doing here.” Before Stepfather came home, Magnus was finishing up a few of the essays that he forgot to hand in while watching What Not To Wear. And of course he just had to leave his fucking contacts on the table altering taking them off in their fragile washroom. He just had to, didn’t he? Magnus cursed himself mentally._

_It is all getting too hot._

_“Magnus, come out. I am tired of talking to a dark room.” Stepfather’s voice is persivisive. “Or… I’ll crush these.”_

_Magnus stiffened. The last time when he and his drunk stepfather were in a room together, Stepfather had almost strangled Magnus. And this time, it wouldn’t be any different._

“Maggie? Come on out.” Magnus swallowed at the overly confident voice of Stepfather, and anxiously checked the lock on the bathroom door. Good, it’s locked.

“Stay away from me, you asshole.” Magnus’ voice shook with anger. Stepfather knows how much the contacts meant to him.

“Magnus, I will not be spoken to like that!” 

Magnus tried to speak, but his voice crumbled at how cruel his stepfather is. He managed to gave out a sniff without breaking down crying.

“You broke my contacts! You know how much they means to me. We don’t even have enough money to buy them for me right now! What do you expect me to do? To go to Idris high without them?” A bubble of anger rushed upon Magnus.

Stepfather’s voice is silky, “Magnus, I was drunk. You can’t blame me for what happened. Now, you had your tantrum, it’s time to come outside.”

Knowing that this will be the closest thing to an apology that he’ll ever get. Magnus swallowed the silent fury, and the waves of pale sadness before throwing water onto his face. The cold water drips are a blessing to the smouldering skin of his. It calms him down a bit as he reaches over to unlock the door.

“I ordered Hawaii pizza, your favourite.” Stepfather turned away from him, not even sparing Magnus one glance. Magnus is too tired to even question where Stepfather got the money for pizza, let alone takeout. Magnus gave out a sigh.


	2. Peach Sauce

The sky turned into a mixture of shades of gold, and crismon from the dark hue with flickers of white. The sun slowly moved over the edge of the water, giving the city a warm, comforting glow that’s the only beautiful thing in this cruel, and unforgivable world. The chilly air swarm around his bare arms, decorating the scars with heavy goosebumps. He's only wearing a t-shirt right now since it's early for them be up.. No one can or ever will see the white and red that draped over his arms, and on the inner of his thighs. With a heavy sigh, he forces himself away from the peaceful scene. It’s almost 6:30, they are bound to be awaken soon. Then day will fully start. And he will have no more time to himself. 

He surrounded himself with the comforts of the pillows, and the chilly air from outside. He didn’t even bother to close the balcony doors. What good will it do? Plus, he thinks better in the cold. He glazed at the beige coloured walls and- A few light knocks interrupted his train of thoughts. With the speed of light, he threw a hoodie onto the sleeves shirt he was wearing and tugged a pair of lounge pants on. He flipped, so that he is on his stomach and grabbed a random book off the bookshelf.

“Yes?” He asked, trying to appear as if he just woke up. 

The grande wooden door was thrust open, and a head with of throbbing curls peeked in, “Big brother, you are awake!”

“What if I wasn’t, Izzy?” The one the girl called “Big brother” challenged.

Izzy grinned an innocent smile that seems too predator like to be real, “Anyways, Jace, Max and I are craving for your cookies.” 

“Cookies for breakfast?” His face scrunched up.

“You eat chocolate mint ice cream for lunch yesterday! Mom’ll be angry if she hears about that.” Izzy protested.

“My favourite little sister is trying to blackmail me. Ouch. Okay, I tell you what. Give me an hour or two and they’ll be ready for you.” 

“Perfect.” Izzy purred as she swaggered away on 2 inch flip flops.

Izzy left wondering why her big brother, Alec, is wearing a hoodie in the beginning of September. But then again, Alec is not your everyday brother.

————-

 

“Are you eating cookies?” Maryse hawked at her four children, all sprawled across the kitchen and the transparent bowl topped up with cookies of all kinds.

“No, Mom. As you can see, we are eating lobsters with peach sauce.” Jace muttered.

“They are really good, Mom.” Max gestures towards the bowl as he kicks the leg on the table from the counter. Maryse reaches towards the bowl before choosing a chocolate one.

“We will not have cookies for breakfast.” She said sternly as she bit into the biscuit. “But Alec, these are like heaven. Trying adding more milk next time.”

“Why did you think Alec made the cookies? I could’ve made them.” Izzy asked. “Or Jace.”

“Isabelle, if you made these cookies, then the house would be covered in flames, your bothers would be dying from overdose of sugar or quite possibly, food poisoning. And I would be in hospital for trying to save our family portraits while tripping over the mixer you left out and breaking my leg in the process.”

Izzy pouted, “Mom, you are mean.”

“Just being honest, Izzy.” Maryse breathed out a chuckle.

“Mom?” 

“Yes, Max?”

“Why would anyone eat lobster with peach sauce?”


	3. Luxuary is not mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three chapters in three days? I must give myself a clap on the back. Or...you can do it with comments and kudos. =) Next chapter, you will meet Grace Blackthorn. She is her mother’s blade.
> 
> Now, enjoy this chapter with Jonathan.

Valentine slid closer to Jonathan. The eyes of the former are gleaming under the chandelier, “Jonathan, Jocelyn left you to die.”

“Father, I will not do what you asked.” At Jonathan’s words and his unbothered demonator, Valentine’s lips twisted together. Another trait that gave away how impatient he is.

“Oh Jonathan. Why are you behaving in such a stubborn way?” Valentine shook his head as he inspected the the son that he towered over.

“You were asking me to betray my own birth mother.” Jonathan is trying his best to appear as calm as he wants.

“No, Jonathan. Not betray. I would never ask you to betray Jocelyn, even if she is the woman who abandoned you without a second thought. I am asking you to get her to trust you, that’s all.”

“And after that?”

“And after what?” A flicker of surprise shadowed over Valentine’s face. 

“After I get Jocelyn to trust me, you will force me to The Cup for you.”

“Ah, my son. You and I think alike.” Valentine said with a pleasant smile pasted on his face. “For the Morgenstern blood that rang through your veins, I will ask one more time. Will you be my proudest creation and succeed me?”

It was everything he ever wanted. To be the son that makes Father proud, and to live with his mother once more. His mother will trust him and love him while his father would be so proud of his own son. Every single thing that he ever wanted since he was seven would be granted with a simple “yes”. Everything. His mother would love him as she once did… 

His eyes burned at the thought of the only woman, the only creature, he ever allowed himself to love and to remember. The vision before him blurred, and he knows that he no longer looked indifferent anymore. He treasured the faint memories that contains her and say every night her name like a prayer. He loves her with all of himself. And perhaps she did love him once too. Then, she could no longer bear for the fact that he is a monster. Then, she abandoned him to the cold mercy of his father. And soon, the love that she felt for him was dissolved into hatred and long gone memories.

“All you have to do is to say “Yes”.” Valentine purred, taking in Jonathan’s hesitation.

Jonathan could be selfish and choose what he wants. Or...he could give up everything he trained for since birth and face the wrath of his father. He would be giving it up for Mother. The woman who abandoned him without a second thought.

“No.”

“Excuse me?” 

“I said “No”, as in refusal. Surely even someone slow as you would know what refusal means?” He already crossed the line, might well crossed it to the end.

The backhand left his cheeks stinging from the raw pain that clawed at his flesh, and his heart aching at how his father would willing hit him. It wasn’t the first time, but every time, it still hurts. 

“I’ll let your mother convince you then.”

————-

He woke up to the lock on those heavy door turning and rattling as whoever is unlocking it is increasing the force. Today is Saturday and as his father promised him, he will be going to his mother. Not birth mother, just Mother. The women who was there for him when Jocelyn left, Lilith, is even more devastating than Valentine. She argue and argue until she gets what she wants. And in today’s case, making him betray his birth mother. Lilith would make him spit out the truth and getting him to realize “on himself” why he should listen to Father. Going against Lilith is like going against a brick wall. Why can’t life just give him a break? He would get bruises and cuts across his body only to be defeated. He popped himself up against a pillow, crashing into the softness, and perhaps for a second, he was seeking comfort in the goose feathers. Comfort, a rare luxury for the young Morgenstern.

“Jonathan, Val wants to see you in his office” A female voice called out. Her voice is a high pitched whine that shudders with each syllable that rolled off her tongue. Doll, or was it Dorcy; another “friend” of Father’s. 

“Coming Dorcy.” He inhaled through his nostrils.

“It’s Dot actually.” Who names their daughter “Dot”? What an idiotic name, but actually, it suits her. 

Jonathan could almost imagine her, such an impure creature owning living in the house that should’ve belong his birth Mother. The imagine disgusts him.

He drowned himself in the frigid water, hoping it would freeze the memory of last night, and heal his broken pride. His feet dangled outside of the tub; he had always been taller than the average in his class. Plus, Father isn’t exactly short either. Jonathan is an exact replica of his father, save for the pale eyes from his birth mother. 

Each year on his birthday, Jocelyn would mail him a hand written letter. Valentine and Jonathan moved a couple of times across the seas, but somehow the letters can always find them. The letters were the hope that Jonathan clutched onto. They were the very thing that proved to Jonathan love existed, and that someone in the galaxy cared for him. It was them that made he continuing living when Valentine whipped him bloody and locked Jonathan inside the dungeons below their mansions. He had memorized them down to ever single word. Then his little sister, Clary, came into this world. He can clearly remember the day that he had read Mother’s past letters until they burned into his mind, and that he waited and waited for the new letter from his mother. When he received the letter, he was ready to read on and on about how Mother still cares about him, and that she didn’t forgot the son she left to an abusive husband. But when the letter came, he found his mother spent the length of five paragraphs to describe how beautiful Clary is. Jocelyn still told him that she love him though.

As he grew older, the letters only came every two year, and somehow, Clary was the only child Jocelyn wrote about. Jonathan was forgotten left out of the letter…

————-

“Oh, my precious boy. How glad am I to finally see you.” Jonathan blinked twice at the tempest of dark figure that spirals down the marble staircase. Every time when he is in one of houses that belongs to his mother, he feels petite comparing to the grande houses.

“Hello Mother.” 

“Aren’t you at least a bit glad to see your mother? It’s been two weeks since I last travelled to London. And finally, you are home.” She embraced him unannounced. It’s like she loves him. But he knows better than that. 

“Of course I am, Mother. I am just tired, that’s all.”

“Why, of course. The food on your father’s jet is disgusting as always.” Lilith smiled, and snapped her fingers twice, “Ollie, bring us refreshments.” She took in Jonathan’s attire from head to toe, “And coffee. Lots and lots of coffee.” 

“There were a few gifts that I was given when you were in London. I will show you them after we finish the business.”

“They must be rare to catch your attention.” Jonathan said, knowing well where this is going to go.

“Yes, of course. Those gifts came by not very often. And when they do, we must accept them.” She lead Jonathan across the foyer with grace and into the parlor. Her heels silently made contract with the marble floor.

“I heard that Valentine has given you a gift and you turned it down.”

“Yes Mother.”

The parlor of Mother’s main residence in Edom is decorated as magnificent as ever. With real gold draped over the walls, and the cushions that are piled so high that they buried the armchairs, it is hard not to recognize that the owner has a taste for fancy things. Jonathan sat down on a leather armchair and had to bit his tongue from groaning at how comfortable it is. Lilith sat down on the opposite of him.

 

“But why?” She breathed out with a smile.

“He asked me to strike at the heart of Jocelyn.”

“No Jonathan. I asked why, not what.” 

“Because I can’t.” Hoping it would calm his nerves, Jonathan took a gulp of the cup of coffee that laid on the table. He has to admit, Ollie makes good coffees. 

“There is nothing is the world that you, my son, can not do. Now, tell me the real reason.” 

“I don’t want to be Father’s weapon anymore. I want to be his son and live a life that a normal teenager would have.” 

Lilith observed the boy who sat on the dark leather carefully. When he wasn’t even born, she was the ultimate enemy of his father’s. Valentine was afraid of her, but more of the secrets that she held. Knowing what she wants the most, but could never have, he offered her a gift in exchange for peace between them. He offered her his own son. 

_“I am offering you peace.”_

_“I don’t want or need peace, Valentine.” She spit the words out._

_“As a symbol to show that I am genuine, I am offering you a gift. I am offering you my son.” He continued, and ignored her._

_“Excuse me?” She was outraged. How dare he come into Edom and mock her? She have should never allowed this creature of a man to live. Rage is steaming down from her and she almost trembled at the mocking fury._

_“My wife, Jocelyn, is with a child. A boy that we decided to name Jonathan when he is born. He is Jocelyn’s, but if it your blood that ran through his veins, he shall be yours.”_

_“Oh?” She is now interested._

_“If your blood are in him before his birth, then he is legally yours.” He slid a stack of paper across the glass table._

_“It does not work like that. You and I both know it.”_

_“I have already found ways, my lady. And all that you need to do is to sign and send me a vial of your blood.” His eyes are gleaming, cold and dark._

_“If you cheated me in any ways, then consider your entire world unsafe. Not even the realms of the shadowhunters will protect you then.”_

_“Of course. I expect no less.”_

_“Valentine Morgenstern, are you are willing to sacrifice the son that shares your blood to me in exchange of “peace” between Edom and you?” She laughed without any mirth._

_“Yes.”_

“You are lying. And you know how much I hate liars, Jonathan.”

“Mother,” he tried to speak, but she raised a finger, silencing him.

“You still cares about her, don’t you?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” 

“If you still love her, then why not take this opportunity to see if she feel the same way? Why waste this gift? After all, this will be the only time that you will ever get see her.”

Jonathan was silent.

“You are afraid to betray her. But you won’t have to.” 

“No?” He cocked one eyebrow.

“No.” She confirmed. “If she feels the same way about you, then I swear on the morning star that your father and I will find someone else to do this.”

“And if she doesn’t?” He asked, fearing the consequences if he does not ask for the whole deal.

“Then you can take your revenge.”


	4. Passin’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologizes to everyone who is still here after several months. Life had been crazy on me. I have came twice to suicide, my depression was getting better and then everything fell apart again, I returned to self harm for a while but everything is better now. I will be posting somewhere around once per two weeks and I hope that I will stick to this.
> 
> I would love to rename the fanfic but if there are any disagreement, please let me know in the comments.
> 
> In this chapter, we meet Grace Blackthorn/Cartwright. She is a character from The Ban Chronicles and I feel like she and Jonathan would have been very close friends if they have been born in the same era.
> 
> So enjoy this chapter and please leave kudos and comments. Don’t forget to subscribe!

She curled up on the ledge of the window, gazing down at the dim light streets below. Her wavy locks are bright against the seafoam walls with random coloured paint scrawled over the scrape parts. The room itself is a rectangular shape, bare of wallpaper and sorts of things that a girl might have. There is no bed, but one yoga mat with a thin pillow and gray throws sprawled on the floor. A few volumes of books were placed against the corner of the room. Their pages in the colour of a creamy yellow and are with holes there and there.

“Grace?” A raspy voice croaked out. 

The girl leaped off the ledge of the window and with light steps, she glides across the room.

The corridors outside is covered in a veil of darkness. 

She inhaled sharply before dancing out.

“Grace?” The voice called out again before bursting into a violent cough. The girl’s feet dug deeper into the carpet with each step she took. The once rich colour faded away with the family’s glory. Now the rug is pale, perhaps more pale than the girl who rans above it. 

“Mom? I am here.” She took a sharp turn down another corridor, her fingers tracing the rosy shade of wallpaper that faded away just like the carpet. She pushed one grand door open, and slipped into the room. This one, unlike the roon of the girl, is full with furnitures that their purposes no longer serves them and jewels with dull glows. The portrait of a boy in a silky white suit hung above the fireplace. The girl thought of how the painter did a miraculous job hiding away his sunken eyes and his lips coated with blood. He is a thin creature and the white suit he wore did no better job to paint him healthy. 

A woman who is wrapped in velvet is sitting on a plush, claw footed sofa. Her hands curled around a golden locket protectively. The woman's dark eyes narrowed when she saw the girl that walked in. She patted the other end of the sofa, gesturing for the girl to sit. 

Both females ignored the thick mist of dust that flew up.

“My dear Grace. In justan hour, Mr. Morgenstern’s driver will come to pick you up. The driver will drive you and Jonathan to Alicante High.” The girl nodded as the woman continues to speak. “Remember, you must refuse Jonathan’s offer in giving you a ride back home. We must not seem too eager  
on keeping our family’s relationship close. Do you understand?” 

“Of course, Mother.” The girl, Grace, replied with a smile and sorrow in her eyes.

“Good. Now go and have a bite.” She dismissed the girl with a flutter of fingers.

Grace’s shoulders dropped down once she is out of the view of her mom. She know that her marriage to Jonathan would be the very thing that can rescue her family out of poverty. But she still wishes to marry for what she loves. Grace cupped her thin hands around the cup of coffee she has as her breakfast and bite her bottom lip to avoid tears from dripping out at the thought of being nothing more than a weapon to her mother. She winced as she realized that she can count the number of bones on those thin fragile fingers. After two sips, she left the bottle on the kitchen counter and rushed upstairs to her closet. She picked out what she wants to wear, not what her mother wants her to wear. It a gray oversized sweater with a front cut so low that even Jonathan, her childhood friend, wouldn’t miss. And shorts that ends right above her thigh. She really shouldn’t let Mom do her own clothes shopping. Then again, she really shouldn’t be in Mom’s plan.

According to Mom, she can not let Valentine’s driver wait under any circumstances. She ran downstairs and grabbed the cup of already cold coffee along her way. With her hair flying behind her, she glide across the garden that is filled with roses. She was careful not to pick herself on those outstretching thorns. Mom never asked questioned why she asked for roses specifically each year to plant and Grace never offered an explanation. A sleek Jeep parked itself right outside of the unwelcoming iron gates. It seems unbothered by the tall decorative spikes or the dry branches of roses. 

That is probably Jonathan’s car with Jonathan himself stretched out on the back seat.

“Swear that you will keep in touch?” A deep voice that smoothes out every inch of her muscles called out. 

“Jonathan!” She cried out with a smile. 

Not that she would admit to herself, she is eager to see her childhood friend once more. Every night she would flip through the photos he sent her on text. And every night she would swore to the Angel that she would never forget him.

Jonathan, her closest friend until today had never broken any promises he made to her.

“Happy early eleventh birthday, Jonathan!” She beamed at the boy.

A light frown crossed the boy’s face but a tight lipped smile chased it away, “Thanks Gracy.” 

She reached forward to hug him. He flinched back and shuddered under her touch. But after a while, he hugged her back.

She count that as a success.

Jonathan doesn’t hug anyone or let anyone hug him. He avoid physical contact to the extreme.

“I am still waiting for Mother’s letter.” He leaned more back onto the branch. 

For a long second, Grace thought he would fall back and crack his skull on the grass below. 

She pulled back from the hug to tell him that but her thoughts wandered back to what he said.

Jonathan always gets letters from his mom on his birthdays. 

His mom left him but at least his mom is still alive. 

Grace gave out a sniff, “It’ll probably come in the afternoon or really late in the night. The post is always late.”

Jonathan brightens at her comment and gave her a rare smile that is missing a front teeth. 

He was worried that his Mom might forget about him.

At least his mom is still alive.

Another sharp thrill of pain climbed up her heart. 

She tried to act indifferent, but he already noticed her change of expression.

“Come on. Let’s go to the garden.” He knows how much she love the Morgenstern’s garden.

The roses there reminds her of Mom’s perfume. The one with the golden pump and the one she puts on every day.

Jonathan flipped into mid-air and landed the ground with his feet under him.

“Show off!” She called out as she climbed down with her feet carefully planted down.

“Last one there is the dumb one! I’ll give you a head start.” She knows that no matter how many minutes of head start he gives her, he’ll always be there first.

She took off running.

The garden is so pretty with the dark petals of the roses and their dark leaves. And their smell is so familiar… 

Mom...

Mom…

Mom…

I miss you.

Why did you leave me to this?

Please, come back...

“Gracy, I have something to tell you.” Jonathan interrupted her thinking.

“What is it?”

“I am moving.” A sharp pain that was in her heart came up to her eyes. The only person is the world who is her friend is moving away. No matter what the other person says, once they leave, they won’t come back.

She said nothing, afraid that she will cry otherwise.

“London.” He said, fidgeting with his fingers.

“England’s London?” She asked.

“Yeah.”

“That’s very far away from Idris.”

“I know, Gracy.”

She said nothing but took a deep breath of the roses. She then looked up at the sky. There are wisps of clouds on the light blue, just like the da-

“It will be okay.” He said, his fingers flying to her arm a pat.

A comforting gesture that reminds her too much of her Father.

“No it won’t.” Grace stubbornly gave her head a shake.

“I’ll keep in touch.” His voice was soft and his onyx coloured eyes round.

“How?” She asked.

“Father will know a way.”

“Swear that you will keep in touch?” She asked instead of questioning why Mr. Morgenstern will allow Jonathan to do so.

“I promise.” He said it with something that made her believe it.

A dark, lean figure climbed out of the driver’s seat. 

Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of Jonathan, her best friend in every dimension. He isn't what she expected, not even the selfies he sent had captured him correctly. He is so much taller and more lean than when they are seven. All the openness in his features are gone. Only Jonathan onyx coloured eyes without irises and the wavy locks of platinum that framed his sharp cheekbones remained the same. 

“Gracy.” They stood awkwardly apart, neither knew what to do with themselves. 

Then Jonathan shook his head a little and gave out a wolfish smile, “Come on, the principal of Idris High doesn’t like late students.”

She climbed up the passenger seat and sank into the soft leather. With one slim leg, she blocked Jonathan's view of her hand. With that hand, she stroked the luxury leather. 

It had been years since she had last sat in a car and are with no worries on what happens after the ride.

Maybe Mom is right after all.

“So how was London?” Grace asked as casually as she could.

“The last five years was very boring.” Jonathan said with a smile that differs too much from Grace’s memories. “Afterall, you weren’t there.”

“We still message and snap to each other though.”

“You know that isn’t the same.” Grace watched as Jonathan’s hands turned the wheel effortlessly. It was as if he know how to drive to Idris High after so many years. 

Streets hurled passed them and the angry swearing of drivers created an exotic scene that can be found nowhere else.

“You okay?” Grace asked him with a turn of her head. It was on his post that she saw the news of Valentine being engaged with a woman young enough to be Jonathan’s older sister.

“About what?” Outside, they passed the ice cream shop Jonathan and her used to go.

“You know what I mean.” She doesn’t want to push the topic.

His answer was silent.

She took a sip of her already-cold coffee. It taste like acid tears and silent screams.


	5. 2018MBAQ16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did y’all like the Grace I portraited? Drop a comment and a kudo if you liked her. ;)
> 
> For those who has not figured it out yet, Downworlders and Shadowhunters are two rival crime organizations in the world. Jonathan Morgenstern is technically the son of Lilith and Magnus is the biological son of Asmodeus. 
> 
> Anyways, have fun with this chapter!

Magnus tugged on the zipper of his backpack and tried his hardest to blend in with the crowd. The bus halted and the man that sat beside Magnus is now leaning against him. The other man radiates off the smoke of cigarettes and cheap alcohol into the opening of Magnus’ nostrils. The women on the right of Magnus with the neon pink curls is having an unpleasant conversation with someone on the phone. Colourful curses rolled out of her mouth as a male voice shouts something back at her. Magnus kept his head low and his eyes trailed down at the ash coloured ground. The vision in front of him are nothing more than the legs of the crowd. He blocked the obnoxious blabbering of the people around him until it became a buzzing sound in the background.

“You are a freak.” The man on Magnus’ left whispered in a hoarse voice that tickled his ears. 

Magnus stiffened and pretended not to hear the insult. 

He had learned a long time ago that some fights are better left alone with.

“Did you hear me? I said that you are a fucking freak.” The man blared his voice in Magnus’ left ear.

“I did.” Magnus offered with a shrug.

Perhaps it wasn’t the best answer because the man roared. “How dare you ignore me? You are a insult to humanity. People shouldn’t wear demon eyes. And why are you dressed like a girl? A boy should look like a boy. No one woul-” 

Magnus looked down at his lap. The outfit he wore today is just a plain Idris’s High uniform. It was a dark green sweater with some black dress pants. Maybe it was the golden glitter he threw into his outfit. He doesn’t see anything “girl like” in that. He then was hit with the fact that the man was talking about his natural eyes. The man thought they were contacts and demonic.

“You fucking prejudiced little piece of shit, get your fucking ass off this bus. People who are standing doesn’t need something like you sitting on a seat and the young man here doesn’t need you being the piece of shit you are.” The woman beside Magnus spoke out with her voice ringing inside the bus.

The bus quieted down and the driver turned around to give the man a thinly veiled look of warning. 

The man huffed and with a roll of eyes, was off the bus.

“Thank you.” Magnus turned to the women with a smile. But the woman has already turned away, screeching into her phone again.

“Thanks.” Magnus tried again but the woman didn’t response.

Magnus hugged his backpack close to him. He is not full by the thin piece of Hawaii pizza since Stepfather eat the entire rest of the pizza, he have to go to school without contacts and makeup, got yelled for it (and defended for it) and is late to the most prejestistice high school. 

What a great day. 

Shadowhunters are some of the oldest and most powerful families in Alicante that believes they are so much more superior than other hard working homes. These powerful families donated money to create the top notch high school in the world, Idris High. The families later grew even more wealthy than before. Soon, they started designing lines of clothes that would cost a normal person months of salary. Shadowhunter families started buying different streets from the city where their high school is until they owned the city. They grew richer and bought companies that are topping others. They are also the ones that made his life into this.

His vision of dark yoga leggings and the rough material of jeans blurred.

He didn’t allow his tears to fall, for today is his first day of high school and it should be fabulous. 

Magnus’ fingers dug into the muffin. Under the glittering of his rings, crumbs flying onto the white leather. 

He glared at the woman who is driving with a dark dress that exposed her fragile legs.

“You said you would make pizza.” He mumbled.

“I’m sorry, my darling. Your papa came home last night for the first time in months. He is always so busy with his job so we never have chances to talk. Plus, I have to get to the company this morning due to an emergency that popped up.” The woman sighed.

“Whatever.” The teen didn’t sound satisfied. “Who’s coming to pick me up after school?”

“Justin.”

Fuck life. 

The driver who talks as like a gangster and acts like an idiot is already with him 24/7. 

Magnus doesn’t that creep to drive him to home after his very first day back at school.

“Mam-“

“Sweetie, I’m sorry. You know that I have two negotiations and one business deal in the afternoon. I won’t have the time to pick you up.”

“What about Papa?” Magnus knew that it was a jerk move, asking about Papa. But Mama had broken her promises to him! 

She said she would make him his favourite food, Hawaii pizza and she hadn’t done anything like that since a long time ago. 

“He was home last night, right?” He followed up his question when Mama’s response was silent.

The woman stiffened, “Yes, but he left for a business trip this morning.” Her answer is clipped and the warm smile that invaded her face is no longer real.

Magnus glanced out the window at the view around him. The contrast of dark skyscrapers and the warm coloured lights feels normal; it feels like a home that he never had. Somewhere around the glittering city, the sun will take its first breath there. 

Last night was one of the worst nights ever. Papa and Mama both decided to come home on the same night without telling Magnus or even each other with it. They had silently worked out a system where Mama is home on Monday and Saturday while Papa is home on Sunday and Thursday. Papa started yelling his head off the second Mama’s glossy heels stepped onto the marble floor. Mama then started to scream at Papa for he is at the house on a Wednesday. This eventually lead to Papa leaving and slamming the door as he go and Mama crying on the pale armchair. Magnus could not be more glad that he was upstairs and away from all this drama. He is the reason why they fight over every little thing until now they can’t even be in the same building as each other. Papa always accuse Mama of cheating on him with one CEO of the Downworlders, Asmodeus. And Mama will always scream that she didn’t. 

Magnus feels a little guilty about leaving crumbs on Mama’s favourite ride now.

“Magnus, I expect you to do good this year. No course will be failed and at least two A’s. Some teens hate their body shape but you are perfect just the way you are. There is no need to go on a crazy diet like you did last years. But stop ordering those sugary drinks at Starbucks every morning. You are going to crash from all those sugar.”

Magnus laughed, clear and bright. Mama didn’t join in on the laughter, instead, she watched the way his eyes shone under the city's lights.

“I love you, my darling.”

The three words that he used to receive everyday is only heard if Papa won some money from his coworkers, is in a good mood or wants to mock Magnus. 

Two years ago, both Papa and Mama used to say these words and meant every single syllable. 

Magnus would give anything away just to see his Mama one last time. He miss her to the point where he is drowned in waves of despair and grief when he hears someone calling her name on streets. He painted the fragile skin on his wrists with the iron crusted edge kitchen knife, crimson and 

The horrendous truth is not the fact that Mama had chose to take her life away but the fact that Magnus had never even spoke the words “I love you” to her. 

Not even once. 

He is supporting his step Papa and himself with his part time job that he begged to do extra hours for.

It’s his fault.

He decorated his arms with red curvy lines that shows some of the bits of fat underneath his skin.

It’s his fault.

He would let the tears of acid wash of his skin until his nose gets clogged and his step Papa would hear his muffled wails if he breathes with his nostrils.

It’s all his fucking fault.

Her hate for his eyes was enough for her to suicide and leave her baby boy to the mercy of his Papa. 

Magnus corrected himself, his Papa is now his stepfather.

Mama’s passing had revealed every little detail about Magnus’ birth. 

From how Magnus’ Papa is actually his stepfather to how Magnus’ biological Papa is someone who owns half of the world.

Perhaps Mama once did love him but love was not stronger than the hatred boiling in her veins.

“Anyone stopping at Idris?”A voice called Magnus back to the harsh reality.

“I am.” Magnus let his voice float across the crowded bus.

“Then get off!” 

Magnus took one last look at the woman with the pink hair and thanked her once more before hopping off the bus. 

He really hopes no one notices him or recognize him as the only son of the CEO and Founder of The Downworlds. 

Yesterday, his biological father, Asmodeus, had publicly claimed a son with the first name of Magnus. But Asmodeus had still never contacted him. Being recognized as the son of CEO of The Downworlders would bring him trouble, especially in a region where Shadowhunters regin.

His sneakers slapped down on the pale blocks that lead him deeper and deeper into the heart of Shadowhunters. 

He inhaled sharply when he realized that the thundering, gothic building in front of him is the infamous Idris High School. The academy is also known as “a place where the wealthy and influential learns how to mock and totoure the poor”. No matter how he and his friends despise this school, he couldn’t help but agree that it is the most divine once he arrived at the front of it. The building radiates off the air of indifference and luxury with its bronze skin, glowing under the sun and the lush green in front of it. 

Magnus has never allowed himself to except the fact that Asmodeus would be a good guess on who registered him into this. Magnus can remember every little detail on that day. From how his hands shocked when he finished the letter that informed him in a formal tone that he is expected to attend the most pretentious high school in September to the fact that tears streamed off his skin in the mail office, for the fee of tuition and uniforms are all paid. The letter had informed him nothing but the fact that someone paid for him to be able to receive the top notch education. To let him be able to receive a second chance at completing life. When he tapped away an email to the administration office on the request of who is this kind to him, he got an robotic reply of them not being able to give out personal information. The offer was just too good to pass and how Stepfather wants Magnus to move out as soon as possible made him accept the offer. If it were truly Asmodeus who paid for this, then Magnus would live the rest of his life with being in debt with Asmodeus. He had did some research on the other person whose blood runs through Magnus’s veins. Asmodeus is suspected to be involved in the criminal world. Although no evidence, there are plenty of websites with the same accusation. And those accusations are pretty logical. 

The clock outside of Idris High strikes a disapprove eight, it reminding Magnus that he is half an hour late on his first day to the most prejudice high school ever existed.

He ponder at the question when to get in and decided on the “ripping a bandaid” option.

He dug his fingers through his hair and walked up the architecture, only to find an access pad engrave in the wall. 

“Please enter your access code.” Magnus read words that are craved above the keypad. And with eager fingers, he pressed down on the buttons until “2018MBAQ16” was finished on the digital screen. 

This is just another weird tradition about Idris high. Every student was given an access code before their first school year and it will be their only code of this three years. The code itself is used for everything little thing that goes on in the building. The reason for this is probably some security thing, Magnus guessed.

He pressed down on enter.

The metallic doors slide into their shell. They revealed a hallway that blends together with the whiteness of the marble ceiling at the distance and dark lockers lined up against the wall. The ceiling, lockers and the walls are merely coloured dots at the end. Silky colored chandeliers pressed against the tall ceiling and-

“Some of us actually cares about being on time.” A rich voice melted Magnus from his very core and somehow smoothened every inch of his strained muscles. He spun around on the back of his heel to the turn to that mysterious voice

“Who are you?” Magnus breathed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The man Magnus met on the bus is a piece of unedcated shit. So pay no attention to him. 
> 
> The Magnus before his mom’s passing is kind of an ass...
> 
> And next chapter...will be starring our favourite ship!! 
> 
> Don’t forget to subscribe.


End file.
